


War Anthem

by Twigo



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Drama, M/M, Romance, corporate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:41:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25645960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twigo/pseuds/Twigo
Summary: AU. Toris hates his boss more than anything, considering that his boss is the immoral CEO of a company at war with another. When money and drugs are at stake, men will do anything to get ahead. Which is why Ivan sends Toris out undercover to get as much dirt as possible on his rival. Sadly for Toris, Gilbert is as much of a jerk as Ivan. Nicer to look at, though. PruLiet, RusGer
Relationships: Germany/Russia (Hetalia), Lithuania/Prussia (Hetalia)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 39





	1. See No Evil

**Author's Note:**

> A/N : PruLiet, some side RusGer. Language, minor drug use. Nothing too bad. This won't be a long story at all. Looking at perhaps five short chapters? I owe somebody more Toris. ;)

**WAR ANTHEM**

**Chapter 1**

**See No Evil**

Toris hated many, many things on this Earth.

He hated hot weather, he hated dogs, he hated the teenage tourists taking pictures in front of old buildings, he hated when people attempted to speak to him in the street, he hated his neighbors, he hated when people crossed the street right in front of his car before the light had turned because he couldn't just run them over, he hated that stupid wish tile, and he especially hated that goddamn ugly knit sweater that people had dressed that beloved tree in.

Once upon time, maybe he had loved Vilnius, but now he hated it along with most other things.

All that said, what Toris hated more than anything else in existence was his boss.

Ivan Braginsky. Toris hated that man more than he had thought was possible. Had never known a man could be capable of such hatred, until Toris laid eyes upon Ivan's face and realized that his fingers had contracted so tightly on his pencil that it snapped right in half. Needless to say, he had switched to pens, even for his own personal scribbles, because pens didn't snap as easily.

Twelve years he had worked for Ivan, and each one of them had been hell on Earth. Ivan was the absolute worst sort of man, in every possible way. Everything about him Toris found utterly detestable, physically and personality wise. He hated how goddamn big Ivan was, hated the way he combed his hair, hated the way he shaped his sideburns, hated the cologne he used. He hated the neat, expensive clothing Ivan wore, even though they were the exact same brand and style Toris used, because of course anything Ivan did was inherently abhorrent to Toris. He hated Ivan's hawkish and prominent nose, because it was perfectly punchable and of course Toris could never take the bait. Hated Ivan's hooded, tired eyes, as if the bastard had ever actually put in a hard day's work rather than just barking orders at Toris. Hated Ivan's flashy car. Hated Ivan putting back glasses of scotch there in the office like water. Hated Ivan as a whole.

Maybe Toris had some anger issues he needed to address with a therapist, because most of the qualities he hated about Ivan were very present in himself. Perhaps he had some self-hatred issues to work through, because Toris wore the same clothes, had nearly the same car, drank on the job just as much, barked orders to those beneath him, styled his sideburns almost identically, and had a somewhat similar nose.

But Ivan was the _worst_.

Toris had been the first man to work for Ivan when he had opened up his pharmaceutical company in Vilnius, and here he had been ever since, watching the birth of BioGen, and seeing Ivan turn it steadily into a very powerful player on the global drug market.

Naturally, with a powerful pharmaceutical company came a great deal of dirty work, and that was Toris' job. Covering Ivan's less than ethical tracks, modifying and editing records, erasing certain minor details that could have become major details, creating false paper trails to throw off real paper trails.

What a life he had.

Ivan dabbled in a little of everything, powerful as he was, but Toris very consistently hated Ivan across all boards. Hated Ivan when he was the CEO of his pharmaceutical company, hated Ivan when he was playing politics and giving testimony and pitches before parliament, hated Ivan when he was pretending to be a military man by investing in and visiting weapons factories.

Hated Ivan, in whatever environment he happened to be in.

Every time Toris sat beside of or behind Ivan and scribbled down the ridiculous words coming out of his mouth, Toris died a little more inside, and he was fairly certain by that point in time that he was being entirely sustained by adrenaline and coffee and burning hatred.

Good fuel, if nothing else.

So he sat right beside of Ivan when he presented the merits of his company before the Lithuanian Parliament, pen scribbling away disdainfully as Ivan looked all of those men in the eye and proclaimed, in his smooth voice, that his company was 'paving the way' and 'making breakthroughs in the field of medical science' and 'a benefit to both the country and the world' and 'a sure investment both morally and financially'.

Toris was well aware of the grimace on his face the entire time Ivan wove his spiel of absolute bullshit, but dutifully wrote it all down nonetheless, so that Ivan could look back over it later on and stroke his ego and get off on himself and how convincing he was.

Ivan really was convincing, and if Toris didn't know the bastard, hell, he probably woulda believed him, too. Ivan was such a big, frightening man, but he was very eloquent, very intelligent, very well spoken, and his voice was soft and soothing. He may have looked like a former weightlifting marine or something, but Ivan truly did speak like a politician, and so naturally funding was always easy to find from the Lithuanian politicians, who were not exactly clean themselves.

Corruption was rampant.

Yeah, maybe Ivan's company was making the occasional breakthrough here and there, but it came from the work and dedication of other men. Ivan found men who were very willing to sell out their partners and even more willing to steal their work and labor and enhance it. Ivan took the life's work of one scientist, handed it to another, and profited on the end result. A businessman, through and through.

Ivan was far happier in the weapons factories. Was all smiles there, looking at missiles and shells, looked giddy and excited, like a kid in a toy store. In those moments, Toris trailed behind him, notepad in hand, and didn't have to do much because Ivan usually said nothing worthwhile, enchanted as he was by the ammunition and warheads all around him. Instead, Toris scribbled away in Lithuanian about how goddamn much he hated this man.

Hated him. Hated him hated him hated him hatedhimhatedhim.

Cortisol levels around Ivan were through the roof.

Ivan acted like he owned the world, and in a way he did. Had more money than anyone could ever hope to spend, had more influence than any sane person could have wanted, and for that, Ivan was dangerous, because he could do anything he wanted and he knew it. For the most part, Ivan's activities were harmless, at least when it came to his personal life. Ivan's ruthlessness came out on the business side of things, where he was very willing to throw away those very scientists that had given him those profits and put them on the street. Ivan's workers were paid bare minimum, their families given almost no security, as Ivan lounged in luxury. Ivan could craft a pill that cost ten cents to make and sell it for a hundred Euros. Ivan's business practices were entirely unethical, and Toris hated him for it.

...that said, Toris was complicit with it all, because as Ivan's personal secretary and sometimes spokesperson, the pay was unparalleled and Toris wasn't a good person. Which should have gone without saying. Ivan paid Toris _extremely_ well, because Toris knew all of Ivan's dirty little secrets. Anyway, when the stress and hate were too high, Toris could always pop a pill to take the edge off and put it back with some of that scotch Ivan loved. Another benefit of being Ivan's walking lie machine. Endless access to the drugs the company made.

Was stuck with Ivan now. Had been here too long and knew too much. If he ever resigned, Ivan would absolutely ruin him before he could turn into a whistleblower.

So Toris suffered in silence, sitting at his desk in this opulent office every single day and writing and typing until his hand cramped and then filing things until his eyes glazed over. Go figure, being an immoral asshole was tiring. Covering Ivan's dirty dealings was quite the fulltime job indeed. No money was clean, and Toris supposed he should have been grateful in a way. Ivan certainly wasn't the worst of the world's CEOs. Was actually rather mild, when it came down to it. In a way, Ivan was sort of like an overgrown child, easy to amuse and please, and outside of his business Ivan was quite laidback. Liked to have fun and spend his money doing so, but never sought to knowingly use and abuse those around him. Never intentionally caused harm to anyone from what Toris had ever seen. There were much worse men out there than Ivan, but Toris hated him anyway.

Twelve years, and Ivan still treated Toris as more of an annoying fly that had buzzed into his office. Toris would tell Ivan everything going on that day, and Ivan would swat Toris away and try to slink off, having no care to listen to the actual state of affairs. Ivan really was a kid, after all, and loved making his money without worrying about the consequences.

So it was that day, as Toris scribbled away in an effort to clean up a few minor discrepancies in the filing of a employee's medical expenses. And by 'discrepancies', that meant that no way in hell was Ivan ever intending to pay for any damn medical expenses. Had evaded it since the birth of his company, and Toris hated him for that, too.

Only Toris, come to think, was ever paid everything he was actually owed, was ever given all vacation and benefits, but that was only because Toris just knew too much.

As Toris slaved away, Ivan sat over at his own desk, playing around as always and doing absolutely nothing constructive as Toris essentially ran the company.

Ivan's phone rang shortly after, and Ivan very cheerily answered it.

"Hello?"

Toris paid little attention, engrossed in his paperwork, letting Ivan's conversation drift through his ears.

"What? Ah, hell! What do they want now?"

Hated Ivan. Hated him. Hated him—

Toris shook his head to refocus. What was it about the sound of Ivan's voice that made Toris' blood pressure rise? It was uncanny.

"Bullshit! And why the both of us? ...pfft. Hell no!"

A tap of Toris' finger, and yet another worker went without medical compensation.

God, _he_ was the worst, not Ivan.

Ivan scoffed, leaning back so arrogantly in his chair, and drawled to his phone, "You don't want my secretary, trust me." A twinge of hatred, as Ivan waved his hand carelessly in the air. "Because! My secretary is a fuckin' bitch, I'm telling you—"

Deep breaths.

Calm. He was calm. Very calm. Collected.

Absolutely.

Ivan laughed, dragging his dusty shoes up and throwing them upon his desk like an absolute savage, and carried on his conversation as Toris' writing became sloppy with anger.

"Ha! Yeah. Well, hey, they gotta be good for something. I'm sure as hell not filing my own damn papers. ...ha! Yeah, that too! Well, this one ain't cute, so there's _that_."

Son of a—

Toris bolted upright, shoving his chair back, squared his shoulders and inhaled, clenched his fists, and stalked furiously over to Ivan, babbling away on his phone, and looked around. A honing in, and Toris took up the vase of fake flowers sitting atop the display table by the window, marched up behind Ivan, and smashed the vase over his head as furiously as he could.

"Toris."

The satisfying shatter, and the beautiful silence of Ivan falling unconscious atop the desk. Toris picked up Ivan's phone, put it to his ear, and said, abruptly, 'I'm not a bitch.'

"Toris."

He hung it up, threw it aside, and stomped out into the free air, with a very dramatic and poetic resignation, smoothing back his tied hair because he _was_ cute as a matter of fact thank you very much.

" _Toris_!"

A jolt of adrenaline, as Toris started upright in his chair and looked up with wide eyes. Ivan was hovering over him, arms crossed and face foul, and Toris regretted coming out of his daydream.

Had been a good one, too.

"What?" Toris asked, mechanically, pen in hand as Ivan glowered down at him.

"I already told you what, you useless bastard. Pay attention."

Why, oh why, couldn't that daydream have been a real one?

Ivan looked cranky, annoyed, sneering down at Toris as much as Toris sneered right back up at him. They needed each other, but there was certainly no love lost between them. Had never liked each other, and had never kept it a secret.

"I got a heads up. I'm being called to a hearing before parliament. In two months. And it's not just us. But _him_ , too."

That grimace of disgust on Ivan's face.

 _Him_.

Oh, man. Toris knew who ' _he_ ' was.

Gilbert Beilschmidt. Ivan's arch nemesis. The CEO of SynTech. Gilbert had been Ivan's biggest competition since day one, and it had been an uphill battle, because Gilbert's company had been in Vilnius for twenty years. Ivan's longtime dream had been to surpass Gilbert in profits, and it hadn't started off very well, but progress was made every year. Gilbert's annual profits were on a very slow decline, as Ivan's ever rose. Gilbert's company dealt more with research and development, whereas Ivan had far many more drugs on the market. Ivan was an opportunist, after all, and would sell whatever passed trials. Gilbert had a bit more dignity than that, because Gilbert was German and not Russian and had grown up no doubt with far less corruption.

That said, Gilbert was still a scumbag, as much as Ivan, and there was a reason he was also being summoned to this hearing. Toris heard, through the grapevine, that Gilbert had a fondness for avoiding taxes.

Wondered what the hell parliament wanted now. The last hearing had been seven years ago.

Toris scoffed, and asked, "For what? What is it this time?"

Grumpily, Ivan kicked gently at Toris' desk, grumbling, "Fuckin' inquiry about workers' missing medical compensation."

Toris glanced at his computer screen with a quirked brow.

Ha—good timing!

That heads up turned out not to be that much of a heads up, after all, because the speaker on Ivan's desk crackled, and a voice called, "Sir! An officer is coming up."

Ivan cursed under his breath, and Toris put back the rest of his coffee, mentally preparing himself for a long damn two months.

A knock on the door shortly after, and Ivan ripped it open less than politely, and Toris saw the officer in question hold an envelope out.

"You've been served."

Ivan snatched it, slammed the door rudely in the officer's face, and stomped back over, throwing the envelope on Toris' desk without even bothering to open it.

Instead, Ivan just griped, "I'm gonna go have a drink. Start gathering those papers. And get what you can on _him_. I'd rather save my own ass and take him down in the process. We have a lot of work to do."

'We', of course, meant Toris.

Ivan turned and walked out, straightening his tie and smoothing his hair, and Toris grimaced at the door long after Ivan had vanished.

What a dick.

He gathered his papers, began the awful task of collecting all of the necessary documentation, and the entire while, he daydreamed up in his head the various ways he would love to murder that pain in the ass.

Alas. Money and power were too great, and Toris' vase-smashing days were only up in his head. What a shame.

Time to get to work, then, and get the scoop on Gilbert. Ivan certainly held a grudge.

Man, was Gilbert going to be in for a long damn day at that hearing.


	2. Suspension of Disbelief

**Chapter 2**

**Suspension of Disbelief**

The hearing started off as badly as Toris could have expected.

Two months, unsurprisingly, wasn't a lot of time, not when Toris had to gather up twelve years worth of documentation, and then on top of that an extra twenty years worth of dirt on Gilbert. Not so easy, because Gilbert of course had his own Toris somewhere, tidying up after him.

The most he could really dig up were the aforementioned tax evasions, and many, _many_ complaints of sexual harassment. Gilbert was apparently a very, eh, handsy boss, to both men and women. Toris had a stack of papers on that, but it seemed none of them had ever gone farther than merely a complaint, as Gilbert had either quashed it or bribed it away.

Still, Toris was thorough, and had a trunk full of files and notes by the time the day came.

Ivan was predictably in a terrible mood. Cranky and pouting, a little kid that had to go to his room as it was, and Toris kept a distance from him just in case Ivan decided he wanted to punch someone.

The only time Toris had gotten anything positive out of Ivan had been on the drive to parliament, when Toris had read some of the sexual harassment complaints aloud and Ivan had actually laughed, and Toris had too. Some of them were positively outrageous, and Ivan had scoffed, "What an asshole."

Took some kind of asshole, alright, for Ivan of all people to call another man one.

Gilbert had arrived before them, for when they cleared security and went inside, there he was, shaking hands and blabbering away to members of parliament. Toris knew what Gilbert looked like, mostly, but this was the first time he had ever actually been in a room with the man. Easy to recognize him, though, because as far as Toris knew Gilbert was the only albino residing in Vilnius.

At the sight of him, Ivan's eyes lidded and his lips drew back into a grimace, and so did Toris', because he felt that way about the both of them.

Behind Gilbert there trailed a very pale blond man, briefcase in hand, and Toris figured that that must have been Gilbert's 'Toris'. His secretary and white liar. Gilbert didn't notice them there at first, but the secretary glanced over his shoulder and happened to spy them. He looked them up and down, very intensely, and Ivan came forward a step.

Toris was shocked and yet not when Ivan gave a little half-bow at the waist to the younger blond, who inclined his head politely in turn but very clearly wanted nothing to do with Ivan. To make that clear, he went over and sat down, pulling his briefcase up and gathering his documents, and Toris did the same at the adjacent desk.

Ivan followed, gaze ever on that blond, and Toris rolled his eyes when Ivan leaned against the desk to stare that man down.

And he was not trying to intimidate him.

That was quick. Ivan did like blonds, though.

Ivan smiled quite charmingly at Gilbert's secretary, who merely lifted his brow and narrowed his eyes and lifted up his folder until only his pale eyes were visible above. Pfft—as if that would really deter Ivan. When Ivan saw something he liked, he didn't let up, apparently even if it happened to be the secretary of his arch rival.

Libido really was the most powerful part of a man.

Ivan's inclinations had never been much of a secret to Toris, and that was probably another good reason why Ivan had chosen Lithuania to start his company. Lithuania was by no means a paradise, and homosexuality was very much frowned upon in general, but it was a hell of a lot better here than it was in Russia, and Ivan no doubt felt very free here indeed.

So Ivan winked at Gilbert's secretary, whose wide eyes gave away how scandalized he was despite his hidden face, and Gilbert, oblivious, attempted to smarm with a few of the politicians for goodwill points before the business started. Ivan was only torn away from making eyes at the blond secretary when he saw Gilbert and realized that it would probably be good for him to schmooze a little, too.

Toris locked eyes with the blond secretary, and they shared a look of misery and empathy that only two beleaguered souls working for awful men could really share. Meeting your soul-mate of torment, as it was.

Ivan got in a good half-hour of sucking up before the hearing was set into motion.

Gilbert was the first one on the chopping block, and Ivan leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his wide chest and smirking away. Looked happy as hell to see his rival being blasted, and divided his time between sneering at Gilbert and ogling his secretary.

Toris was paying attention to the accusations being thrown at Gilbert, scribbling away and making his notes just as furiously as the blond was.

"—naturally, it's perturbing to us that we have voted many times to support funding for your company, and now when it comes to light that perhaps our fine country isn't being compensated in turn in full—"

Ivan sat up, moving about this way and that, and Toris could see that he was trying to create motion to draw the blond's eye. Toris scoffed, shook his head, and could see the blond very intentionally and purposefully ignoring Ivan. Considering the blond worked for Gilbert, he was probably an expert at ignoring blatant sexual harassment.

Ivan seemed disappointed when he couldn't get the secretary to look at him, and instead turned back to smugly watching Gilbert defend himself against the claims of tax evasion.

Gilbert was about as good as spouting bullshit as Ivan was, and sounded quite sure and confident as he proclaimed, shamelessly, that it was no doubt 'just a minor clerical error' that had 'misplaced paperwork', because of _course_ Gilbert paid all of his taxes, naturally!

It was Ivan who scoffed then, as Toris tried not to die of boredom and hatred.

Wished he could have kicked Ivan's shin, since Ivan couldn't really punch him there in front of politicians.

He decided not to.

When it was Ivan's turn to be grilled, however, his smirk faded and was replaced with a sneer. Looked entirely inconvenienced, looked smug and annoyed, and above all else Toris wished that the light fixture above Ivan would crash down and take him out for good.

It didn't.

"Mr. Braginsky, can you explain why, five years ago, your company BioGen filed an appeal with the courts to dismiss sixteen claims of worker compensation, filed by the families of employees injured on the job? The year before that, your company sought to dismiss twenty-three claims, and the year before that eighteen. This goes back twelve years, since the formation of your company, with an average of fifteen claims per year. It was understood that you would pay all medical expenses, and yet here it says that, as of today, none of these workers has yet to receive any sort of compensation. In the five years since the last appeal, suspiciously, there hasn't been a single claim of worker's compensation. Do you mind explaining where that money has gone, and how your company has miraculously become so safe?"

Toris slid Ivan the appropriate papers as the representative spoke, and Toris could see in Ivan's twitching eye how furious he was to be questioned. Ivan considered himself far above this, and just couldn't be bothered.

Toris glanced over, and saw that now it was Gilbert who was smirking away, leaning in and whispering with his secretary. Gilbert and Ivan were opposites in that manner, Toris supposed; Gilbert paid his employees well and took care of them, but evaded his taxes. Ivan paid all of his taxes dutifully and shirked his workers. Both awful, in their own unique ways.

Ivan cleared his throat a bit, forced a smile, leaned forward to his microphone, and glanced at Gilbert as he said, coolly, "I'm going to take it as a compliment that parliament has noticed how safe an environment I provide my workers. I should hope no one is implying that my very safe practices are somehow unsatisfactory. As far as medical compensation, I'm afraid I simply don't know of these cases you speak of. All of my employees are well taken of, and if anyone has slipped through the cracks in these so-called 'cases', then, as Mr. Beilschmidt has previously pointed out, it was surely only clerical error. The cases I sought to have dismissed prior were cases I had paid for already. I don't understand why they were claimed when I provided the compensation I owed." (Oh, what a lie that one was! Shameless!) "I have had no complaints at all since. My workplace is safe and sound, and outside of the basic humanities, at least no one in _my_ company—" a very pointed stare at Gilbert "—has to worry about being harassed and made to feel uncomfortable while at work. If why _I'm_ being summoned is out of concern for my employees' wellbeing, then perhaps we should shine a light on other companies who intimidate and threaten their workers into silence to avoid being caught in sexual harassment scandals."

Gilbert puffed out angrily, but clamped his mouth shut when his secretary whispered in his ear. Instead, Gilbert forced a very fake, twisted smile, and smoothed back his hair. Toris snorted and smiled at Gilbert's fury, scribbling away as the parliament blabbered on for another good few hours or so.

This and that, as Gilbert and Ivan sniped at each other vaguely when the chance arose.

Then the clock struck three, and everything wrapped up.

Parliament had been placated again, Gilbert's schmoozing had saved him from a follow up inquiry, and Ivan's subtle insinuations had distracted them just enough for him to slide.

Victorious yet again.

With that, the hearing was concluded, and everyone was free to go. Ivan stood up straight, looked around arrogantly as he rolled his shoulders, having secured his company and position, and when his eyes locked with Gilbert, Ivan lifted his chin and sneered at him.

Gilbert's condescending and distasteful look was perfectly matched by his blond secretary, and for that Toris was surprised when Gilbert again smoothed back his hair and then swaggered over to them, secretary a step behind.

Toris watched and waited, and to be perfectly honest he very much wanted these two jackasses to get into a fistfight right there and get arrested. Would have made his entire life.

Gilbert came to a halt before Ivan, slouched arrogantly and stuck his hands in his pockets, staring Ivan down as Ivan stood up straight and spread out to his full size. The worst two guys Toris had ever met, face to face and trying to intimidate the other.

Gilbert said, so smoothly, "I can see now why thirty-one percent of my workforce are former employees of yours."

Ivan's nose crinkled, his sneering smile showed his teeth, and he replied, just as coolly, "I can see now why you've lost four percent of your annual earnings paying fines."

"A ha!" Gilbert scoffed, very unbothered, "Yeah, I'm sure you keep up with my annual earnings. Considering they're currently twelve percent greater than your own."

"Of course I keep up," Ivan retorted, airily, "So I can mark the precise moment I surpass you. You know, given that your company is in a three year decline while mine is still on a twelve year rise. Four more years, and your company will be trailing mine. It'll be your employees then coming to me, when you shut down."

A flash of anger on Gilbert's face, pushed quickly away when he replied, "For now. Don't you worry, man. I have something great in the works. One of a kind. It's gonna change the entire market as we know it. As soon as the trials are over and there's a patent, you're finished for good."

Ivan bristled.

They squared off for a little while, until Ivan glanced over at Gilbert's secretary and was momentarily distracted. Gilbert, in turn, happened to glance over at Toris.

And then everything went horribly, terribly wrong.

Gilbert's brow lifted, his stance of belligerence turned into more of a puff of confidence, and Gilbert took a step to the side, stood before Toris, and said, right there in front of Ivan, "Say! You another unhappy worker? You can come across the city and work for me instead."

Gilbert's eyes raked him up and down, Toris felt extremely violated by that obvious gaze, and Ivan broke away from smiling at the blond to gawk over in disbelief as Gilbert shot Toris a wink.

Toris curled his lip in disgust, nose crinkled, and took a very pointed step backwards when Gilbert came closer and very much intruded upon his personal space. Gilbert didn't take the hint, the creep, and just took another step. That time Toris stood his ground, and not even the blond secretary could keep Ivan from glaring over at Gilbert with very clear hatred.

Gilbert leaned forward, putting their faces far too close, and he said, in a lower voice, "Come work for me. I'll take good care of you. At least I cover all my worker's comp. You can be my secretary instead. You don't wanna work for this jerk, do ya?"

Toris was astounded at the gall, opening his mouth and finding no voice. Even Ivan was speechless.

Gilbert certainly didn't lack nerve.

"Say," Gilbert crooned. "You speak German?"

Without thinking, Toris shook his head, and Gilbert smirked. Ah, hell, he had messed up, alright, because suddenly Gilbert was raking him again, and now he was muttering lowly in German. When Gilbert spoke in German, his voice was much deeper, huskier, rather guttural. Attractive, certainly, but Toris was more than aware that Gilbert was very much uttering things that were highly suggestive, if only from that look on his face.

Ivan, very irritated, grunted suddenly, "We're leaving."

At that, Gilbert forcibly shook Toris' hand, walked over until he was standing beside Toris, rested his hand on Toris' shoulder in a very inappropriate manner, still muttering away in German, and the next thing Toris knew Gilbert had run his hand down his back and very enthusiastically grabbed his ass.

What the _fuck_?

Toris was stunned, shocked, flabbergasted, utterly and entirely speechless, at the sheer audacity. Didn't move, because he just couldn't. The balls Gilbert had, grabbing someone's ass right there in front of parliament, when Ivan had already tossed out accusations aloud of Gilbert's alleged harassment. Not so alleged, apparently.

Toris gawked at Gilbert, as Gilbert stepped back. His mouth was open and his eyes were wide, as Gilbert winked at him again and sent him a dumb little two-fingered salute before turning on his heel and walking out, secretary on his heels. Coulda sworn the secretary had rolled his eyes.

Had that really just happened?

Ivan looked appalled, but not for Toris' dignity and respect so much as that Ivan felt he owned Toris and hated Gilbert, and therefore Gilbert touching Toris was offensive to Ivan on some level. As if Gilbert had walked up and kicked Ivan's dog, perhaps.

Toris couldn't _believe_ it. Was so damn shocked still he was perfectly immobile. Literally couldn't move, he was so taken aback. Had never in his life—!

Ivan cursed under his breath, and began stalking out of the building, and only then did Toris wake up enough to trot behind him.

The very second they were outside of the parliament building, Ivan threw his hands in the air and roared, furiously, "Who the _fuck_ does he think he is? That son of a bitch! He's gonna get his, I swear it, that bastard! His days are fuckin' numbered, Toris, you wait and see, I'm gonna ruin that miserable, stupid, salacious son of a _bitch_! Mark my words! I'm gonna tank his entire goddamn company! He's gonna be on the streets when I'm done with him! _Fuck_!"

Ivan kicked the nearest object, which happened to be the stone wall that led to the parking lot, shrieked a curse when he busted his toe, and Toris zoned out a bit as Ivan kept on his endless tirade.

Gilbert. What a piece of work. Was honest to god just as terrible as Ivan, he really was, and that made it kinda funny that they were determined to ruin each other. Two powerful, egotistical, immoral men, sitting there and plotting how to bring down the other while simultaneously eyeballing the other's secretary.

It was almost poetic.

They certainly didn't act like men who would turn forty next year. ...or did they? Maybe they were just having their midlife crises. Toris was only a year behind them. Maybe next year he would suddenly start sexually harassing his underlings as well and start trying to intimidate other men.

Just kill him now.

Toris snatched the keys from Ivan's hand when he was unable to hit the button to unlock the door for his wrath, hopped inside, slammed into reverse, and very promptly ran Ivan over, sitting up and looking around the parking lot for Gilbert. A glimpse of silvery hair in the sunlight, and Toris set course for him. Goddamn, the thump under the tires was extremely satisfying—

"You drive," Ivan griped, as he tossed the keys into Toris' face, ruining yet another great daydream. "I need to drink."

So did Toris. They got in the car, Toris throwing his briefcase in the back, and when Ivan pulled a bottle of vodka out of the glove compartment, he took a long swig as Toris pulled out. Toris glanced in the rearview mirror, didn't see Gilbert to run over, and sighed, reaching out to snatch the bottle from Ivan and take a long draught of it.

Ivan rolled his eyes, and bitched, as they drove, "I hate him. I hate him so fuckin' much, Toris, you don't know."

"I think I do," Toris griped.

Maybe not because he hated Gilbert quite as fervently as Ivan did, but because he hated _Ivan_ very fervently and therefore knew well that sentiment.

That drive was annoying as hell, as they passed the bottle back and forth and bitched to each other about Gilbert's audacity.

Toris was still in shock, to be perfectly honest.

What a piece of work.

They reached the company without running over any pedestrians, and Ivan stomped to the elevator like a child. Toris wasn't too far behind him, and was certainly huffing. They stopped in reception to grab a coffee, and when the woman asked, "Did everything go well, sir?" Ivan just scoffed and tromped off.

Ivan had certainly been insulted, several times.

Beyond the shock, Toris did wonder what Gilbert's little secret weapon was. This mysterious new trial.

No way to really find out.

Toris had never been so glad to be back in the office, and he pulled out the bottle of scotch from his desk and poured a good bit into his coffee. What a miserable day! He started sipping, pulling out papers and organizing them, very intent on burying this once and for all.

Ah, how that scotch helped.

Didn't get to finish drinking it at all, though.

"Toris!" Ivan suddenly shouted, causing Toris to jump and spill his coffee all over his desk. Toris cursed and bitched, as Ivan came stomping over.

"What?" Toris hissed, rubbing the liquid from his papers as best he could.

Ivan was not sympathetic, and said, "Toris, I want you to go work for that asshole after all."

Shock forced Toris into stillness, shirt soaked and papers soggy.

"Wh-what?"

"You heard me!" Ivan snapped, foot tapping and hand restlessly patting his thigh. "I'm sending you on reconnaissance. Go over to that bastard and do what you have to do. Whatever that 'one of a kind' thing he's working on is. Find out what it is. Get everything you can on it, and report back."

"Are you crazy?" Toris griped, eyes locked onto Ivan's as Ivan tried to burn him alive with that glare. "No way in hell! He's an asshole, but he's not stupid. I can't just show up and have him suddenly spilling out his secret weapon to me. He's not _that_ dumb."

"He probably is," Ivan grumbled, and maybe he had a point, but all the same Ivan added, "So! Do whatever you have to. However long it takes. Seduce the bastard. Clearly he's got the hots for you, so make him talk in bed or whatever."

A horrible burn of red on Toris' face, at the humiliation and audacity.

Sounded a hell of a lot like Ivan was essentially whoring him out for some potential inside information on new drugs. It was exactly that, come to think, and Toris was absolutely and completely affronted.

Had never been so offended.

"We're too old for this," Toris tried, and Ivan crossed his arms.

"Bullshit. Go."

"Absolutely not!" Toris barked, slamming his palms on his desk for emphasis. "I won't do it! I refuse. Absolutely not. I won't, and that's that."

Ivan's brow lifted, his eyes lidded, and he sneered.

Toris realized he had made a terrible mistake.

* * *

'That's that' with Ivan was not really 'that's that', and Toris had always been aware of that. Perhaps he had been in denial when he had uttered those words.

Two days later, Toris was packing his briefcase with necessary documents as Ivan paced back and forth behind him, babbling away about precisely what he expected from Toris.

Toris didn't hear a damn thing the bastard said, so intent was he on attempting to set the building on fire with his mind alone.

Didn't work.

Oh—he didn't _wanna_ go 'work' for Gilbert, because the bastard had already grabbed his ass right there in the house of parliament, and Toris had seen the pile of complaints. If he were alone with Gilbert, god only knew what he would try.

Sadly, Toris really had no say in the matter, because Ivan was the boss, and if Gilbert really did have something that would tank Ivan, then Toris was going right down with him, and there was no way in hell Toris was losing this job. He was rolling in money, and intended to keep it that way.

The most important item in his briefcase was the bottle of tranquilizers. Was sure as hell gonna need those.

Ivan kept on yammering, and Toris finally shut his briefcase, stood up straight, and sighed out the last of his misery, heading at last to the door when Ivan shoved him on his way.

Why, oh why, was it him? Why him? Why was it always him? Was he that shitty of a person that he deserved this awful cosmic joke?

...yeah, actually. Yeah he was.

Shit.

"Oh! One more thing," Ivan called, and Toris looked testily over his shoulder. Ivan shot him a smirk, ran a hand through his hair, and added, "While you're there. Get the name of that blond that he was with. And his number. For, ah, you know. _Business_ purposes."

Toris lidded his eyes and crinkled his nose, grimacing and giving Ivan his absolute best expression of absolute disgust.

'Fuck off,' Toris spat, and stomped out.

In his head.

Vocally, he grumbled, "Whatever," and barged out, slamming the door behind him.

Goddammit.


	3. Next Stop : Nowhere

**Chapter 3**

**Next Stop : Nowhere**

How miserable it was to actually walk inside of that building.

Toris felt an absolute fool, strolling into his rival company and right into the lobby, briefcase in hand and looking over either shoulder, terrified that Gilbert was going to come out of the woodwork and grope him some more.

Felt positively dumb, going up to the receptionist and saying, "May I request an audience with Mr. Beilschmidt?"

Her look was about as condescending as Toris' was, and she asked, snidely, "Do you have an appointment?"

"No," Toris snapped. "But I suggest you tell him to make one for me, immediately, as this pertains to him deflecting tax discrepancies in the hearing before parliament."

Well. Kinda true—it did have to do with the hearing, in the sense that Gilbert had accosted Toris there. At any rate, it worked, and she quickly picked up the phone and whispered away.

"He's coming down," she said, and turned away from him.

Toris waited, and it didn't take long for the elevator to open up and a cranky looking Gilbert to come stomping out. His look of irritation instantly faded upon seeing Toris, replaced with surprise, and then a certain sort of smugness.

"Well, well, well!" Gilbert began, sliding his hands in his pockets and coming forward to circle Toris like a damn shark. "Look who it is. I didn't really think you'd take me up on it."

"I haven't," Toris quickly clarified, glowering at Gilbert whenever he crossed Toris' line of sight. "I'm just here to talk and see what, exactly, you can offer me. Off the record, of course."

Gilbert looked around, leaned in, lowered his voice, and asked, curiously, "It's a business day. How did you manage to get over here without _him_ knowing?"

Toris lifted his chin, sneered a little, and griped, "I do actually get vacation days, you know. Do you want to talk or not? I won't waste my time."

Gilbert straightened up and extended his arm to the elevator, crooning, "This way."

Toris sighed through his nose, and steeled himself as he walked into the elevator, attempting to prepare for some manhandling as soon as the doors closed.

Gilbert did shuffle in very closely, enough to press their shoulders together, but surprisingly he didn't attempt to plunge a hand down Toris' pants, but that may have yet been because Gilbert saw an opportunity in Toris to get one over on Ivan.

Hardly.

The elevator stopped, they stepped out, and Gilbert led him into an office. Toris immediately saw that blond that Ivan fancied sitting there at a desk, glancing up when Toris walked in. At the sight of Toris, the blond's mouth fell open and he sat up straight, and it wasn't long before the blond was very furiously glaring at him mistrustfully.

Toris knew where his main problem in this venture would lie, and it was in that snooty pale bastard right there in front of him. Gilbert may have been a fool, but his secretary wasn't, and that was easy enough to see.

Gilbert leaned against his secretary's desk, eyed Toris up and down, and said, "So! Let's talk, then."

A hiss in German from the blond, and Gilbert murmured back, perhaps waving him off.

Toris gathered his will, and began.

"You should be the one doing the talking. What can you do for me? I guarantee that I have the upper hand in this venture. What can you offer me that he can't? I don't need you. But I think you would consider me quite valuable, wouldn't you? You two are always looking for ways to one up the other. Money talks, everywhere. I'm only a man; I have no loyalties. Whoever pays more retains my services."

That was absolutely true, and although Toris actually did have some loyalties to Ivan, if Gilbert really did offer him something Ivan simply couldn't compete with, then Toris could never really have said what precisely he would have done. He hated Ivan, in the end, and Ivan trusted him quite blindly to ever send him here.

If staying here proved more beneficial to Toris, then Ivan could easily have been in trouble. That said, it would depend on this mystery trial and the future of Ivan's company. Currently, Gilbert was falling and Ivan was rising. Unless something happened that changed Toris' mind, remaining with Ivan would be the safest path.

The cranky blond sitting at the desk whispered fervently to Gilbert, voice thin and angry, and Gilbert crossed his arms over his chest and looked Toris up and down, remaining silent as his secretary chewed his ear off.

Toris just waited, to see how stupid Gilbert actually was.

In turn, Toris observed them as they murmured to each other.

The two Germans were...interesting, Toris supposed, if not irritating.

Gilbert had only been seen close up by Toris at the hearing, and so now Toris was more focused and truly able to observe him. Gilbert was the same age as Ivan and Toris, but looked younger than they did, if only because his very white skin made it more difficult to notice the line in his forehead. Sure, it was cool to meet an albino, but Gilbert also had the advantage of being handsome. Those eyes and that jaw, in particular, stood out. Gilbert was very broad, not as huge as Ivan but certainly a strong man. If he hadn't always looked so arrogant and smug and obnoxious, he might have been a perfect catch.

The blond was younger than Gilbert by a good bit. Twenty-seven, maybe, give or take. A little taller, but a bit less broad. His hair was the palest shade of platinum, eyes the palest shade of blue, skin somehow nearly as white as his albino counterpart, but he had little freckles on his neck here and there, and one on his jaw. Long legs and big hands. A handsome young man. Could see where Ivan's interest lied.

They were annoyingly attractive, surprisingly so perhaps for their jobs. It would have been easier for them to have just gotten into modeling or something, but to each their own Toris figured. As much as he hated the sight of Ivan, Toris could say he also hated the sight of these handsome pale bastards. Eh.

Finally, Gilbert lifted his hand on the air, calling for silence, and the blond crinkled his nose and brow and seemed offended at being shushed.

Gilbert stepped forward, and offered, "You're here for a reason. If you think you have the upper hand, that's all well and good, but we both know why you're really here—you see an opportunity, and because now you're wondering if I really will knock BioGen out of the market. And I promise, I will. So, in that sense, _I_ have the upper hand. When he falls, so do you. So. I'll make my offer : fifteen percent more than whatever he pays you, and I'll double all benefits. You won't get anything better than that, anywhere. And this is one time only. If you come back after BioGen crashes, I'm not taking you."

For an ass, Gilbert knew how to drive a hard bargain, or would have, anyway, had Toris' intentions been true.

Meh.

Toris was honestly unimpressed, and that wasn't quite enough to turn Toris, particularly when he could get this info on Gilbert's new drug, take it back to Ivan, and then demand far more out of Ivan if Ivan really wanted the scoop. Toris held the cards, in all ends, and had no lack of confidence. He was the one who would come out on top, either way, but for now Gilbert had done nothing to truly sway him, and for that Ivan was very safe.

The blond was glaring daggers at Toris, making it very clear where _he_ stood on the matter.

Toris tapped his foot, to appear deep in thought, and then demanded, to appear less suspicious, "Twenty-five percent. Nothing less."

Gilbert snorted, as the pale blond behind him blazed red with anger.

All the same, Gilbert strode forward and stuck out his hand. Toris stared disdainfully at it for a long second, before sighing and taking it.

"Good to have you," Gilbert drawled. "Come back tomorrow morning. Seven. We'll settle you in."

And that was that.

The blond muttered under his breath as Toris turned on his heel and walked out, and when he was home, he dutifully called Ivan, who was positively giddy that Gilbert had taken the bait.

They chatted for a while, and then Toris asked, curiously, "So who's doing my job now?"

Ivan airily tossed out, _"The receptionist. Eduard, I think. You should hurry. Go figure, he's actually pretty good at paperwork. You may be replaced yet."_

Toris scoffed, and griped, "Not in a chance in hell after this. When I get what I need to, I expect you to make me a partner."

Ivan laughed.

Toris crankily grumbled, "That wasn't a joke."

A short silence, and then Ivan fumbled, _"Well—! Let's take it one step at a time. Just find out what it is."_

Toris rolled his eyes, hung up, and tossed the phone aside.

He spent that night envisioning himself as the co-owner of BioGen. Hell yeah. That was worth getting groped by Gilbert and putting up with his secretary's dirty looks.

He slept quite well that night, but in the morning felt remarkably stressed. He chugged a coffee laced with scotch, put back half a pill, and grabbed a beer for the road.

Toris tried to walk into his new place of employment an hour later, beer in hand, and was stopped at the door by the blond, who huffed and blocked Toris' path to reach out and snatch the beer. Toris furrowed his brow, and Gilbert's stuffy blond pet chided, sternly, "No alcohol on these premises, if you please. You don't work for a Russian corporation anymore."

With that, the blond lifted his chin and snipped, "Follow me to your new office," walked off, and Toris sighed as he followed along.

Damn. He had forgotten what it was like in a normal corporate setting. Guess he wasn't going to be guzzling scotch by the liter here. Figured. This was some kind of punishment, and this was when he needed alcohol the most if he was to suffer Gilbert's wandering hands.

The blond led him to a door, opened it, and then walked briskly down the hall.

Toris went inside the office, sat down at his new desk, and buried his face in his hands.

How he hated Ivan, hated him hated him hated him—

A quick rap on the door, and Toris sat up straight when Gilbert walked in, his dutiful blond in tow.

"Welcome aboard officially," Gilbert said, as the blond glowered at Toris from behind Gilbert's shoulder. "Glad to have you jump ship." A quirk of Gilbert's brow, a look of what could very well have been knowing, and Gilbert added, in a smoother voice, "It's interesting Braginsky just...let you go like that. You know, when you're his right hand. Seems like a bit of a security risk."

Very cool and composed, Toris just looked Gilbert in the eye, and said, "Let this be a lesson to you to treat your shadow very well. You never know when we'll have enough and turn. Like I said, money talks."

The blond glared at him testily, and Gilbert was quick to laugh, and said, so cheerfully, "I'm smarter than your guy. This is my little brother. So I don't ever have to worry about him running away. If I go down, so does he. Keep it in the family, man."

Toris scoffed, and couldn't wait to see the look on Ivan's face when he found out that he had been ogling his enemy's brother.

At the rather electric look of distaste between Toris and the blond, Gilbert offered, "If you haven't been properly introduced, this is Ludwig. He doesn't talk a lot unless it's to bitch. Think of him more like your visiting aunt who hates you, rather than your coworker."

Ludwig curled his lip at Gilbert disdainfully.

To be an ass, Toris turned back to Ludwig, and spoke to him directly for the first time.

"So," Toris said, smoothly, "I guess _you_ have a lot of work to do, erasing your brother's misconduct every day. I'm not envious."

Gilbert scoffed, as Ludwig drawled, seemingly rather bored all of a sudden, "You have _no_ idea."

Toris did, actually, not that they would know. Toris' favorites from the pile of complaints had been Gilbert walking up behind a worker and reaching around with both hands to grab her breasts as she had her hands full with machinery, Gilbert slapping one scientist's ass when he had successfully completed a protein chain, Gilbert slipping a hand under a receptionist's skirt when she had bent over, and, Toris' personal favorite, Gilbert grabbing another receptionist by his tie and dragging him right down onto Gilbert's lap at his desk, where he then proceeded to reach out and grab the receptionist's crotch with an invitation for an office romp. Needless to say, it had been declined. With a fist to Gilbert's nose. Allegedly.

Ludwig must have been as beautifully skilled as Toris, to be able to get a scumbag like Gilbert out of the PR nightmare he created every day.

Supposed that was why Gilbert took such good care of his workers as well, so that when he inevitably groped them they were more easily placated.

Gilbert came forward and rested a very large pile of papers on the desk, and said, "I'll give you plenty of time to read through the technical details. Sign where you need to. Or don't, I don't care. When you're finished, you can call the front desk, and Ludwig will be happy to get you started."

Obviously, Ludwig was _not_ happy.

But they walked out as abruptly as they had come in, Toris slapped his signature on paper after paper, sighing very heavily and very frequently, and it all went on from there. Ludwig, as expected, was extremely cranky when he returned, very cold and snippy, and Toris just bit his tongue and did what he was told.

The following morning, Toris sipped a laced coffee on the way in, finished it just in time, but when he walked in, Ludwig came up very close to him, nearly pressing their chests together, and was very quick to hiss, in warning, "I told you there was to be no alcohol. That also includes alcohol in your system. Come in to work smelling like libations again and I'll supersede Gilbert and fire you myself."

Toris had just sneered at Ludwig, and rolled his eyes as he walked to his new office.

What a priss. Who the hell even said 'libation' anymore? Hated that guy almost as much as Ivan.

The next morning, Toris did all of his drinking before he came in, and chewed gum on the car ride in case Ludwig decided to start sniffing him, which wouldn't much have surprised him. Just to be sure, though, he plowed quickly through a cigarette right before walking in, and from the crinkle of distaste on Ludwig's face, Toris had successfully avoided Ludwig's built-in breathalyzer detection.

Gilbert made few appearances that first week, apparently keeping his distance for a while until Toris settled in, and it was Ludwig who Toris saw the most.

Ludwig glowered at Toris very frequently, often glared, and Toris wondered if perhaps Ludwig was jealous in some way. If Ludwig felt as if Toris was attempting to replace him. Not a chance, but of course he couldn't tell Ludwig that, so merely suffered those icy stares.

Ludwig was pretty, though, certainly Ivan's type alright, but Toris had no idea how to go about getting Ludwig's number for Ivan when Ludwig was so intent on murdering Toris with his eyes. Eh. Ivan's libido could wait.

First thing was first.

Monday morning, on his second official week with absolutely no leads at all on Gilbert's mystery drug, Gilbert finally decided to grace Toris with his presence.

A knock on the door, and Toris glanced up to see Gilbert standing there. He sighed inwardly, prepared himself as best he could, and Gilbert came in.

"So," Gilbert crooned, as he strutted in and rested sideways against Toris' desk. "How do you like your office?"

Toris glanced up through his lashes, pen in hand, and merely supplied, "It's nice. More than I expected. I presumed I would be in a cubicle."

Gilbert ran a hand smarmily through his hair, cracked his neck a little, and said, "No way. You're my special guest. Gotta take care of you."

Gilbert crept a little closer, and Toris attempted to fortify himself and get ready for some classic sexual harassment. And boy, did Gilbert not disappoint.

Several seconds later, Gilbert was behind him, hands on Toris' shoulders, and Toris remained passively still as Gilbert began kneading his shoulders in an entirely unsolicited massage. Well. Toris wasn't going to say he didn't enjoy _that_ , because god knew he hadn't relaxed for twelve years, creep or no. Gilbert was shameless and audacious, but Toris was used to that thanks to Ivan.

To be fair to Ivan, though, Ivan at least had the decency not to fondle his workers. Kept that strictly outside of his business. Damn; never thought there could be someone out there that would make Toris think a little more highly of Ivan. Yikes.

Gilbert seemed a little bolstered by Toris cooperating, and leaned his head down until his lips were barely brushing Toris' ear. Toris suppressed the shudder, sat very still, and Gilbert's voice was quite husky when he murmured, "So. What can I do to make you feel more welcome, hm?"

Toris had a very good idea of what Gilbert had in mind, and kept very cool and calm when he replied, neatly, "Tell your brother to stop being my parole officer. Can't a man have a drink in the morning without some little kid telling him what's what?"

Gilbert barked a laugh, hands ever kneading, and sounded amused when he retorted, "Sorry! I can't do anything about that. He's been like that since he was five. If it's any consolation, he does the same thing to me. We're in that bed together. I mean, boat."

Mm-hm. Sounded legit.

"But," Gilbert was very quick to add, "If you wanna have a drink, I'd be more than happy to take you out for one after work. I'll give you my personal number."

By then, Gilbert's lips were very fully pressing into his ear, and it was only by remembering that he was going to be Ivan's business partner that kept Toris from punching Gilbert in the face.

To be absolutely truthful, a massage actually wasn't that bad. He probably shouldn't have been complaining, and Gilbert actually was very handsome. The more Gilbert manhandled him, the less Toris found it actually bothered him, as he settled in. Worse things in the world.

Anyway, going to some bar and getting Gilbert drunk was probably Toris' best shot of getting info on Gilbert's secret weapon, because so far Toris had come across absolutely nothing in his paperwork about it, nor had he been able to uncover anything in the computer system.

He did try though, and when Gilbert left that day after setting his number on Toris' desk and squeezing the back of his neck, Toris bided his time.

Toris was no hacker, not by any means, but knew a few tricks here and there and had cracked into a few systems before, and so he was losing nothing by at least giving it a go. He waited until it was very close to closing time, and then pulled out a huge stack of paperwork and sat it upon his desk so that he would have an excuse for staying late, should anyone have come in to ask.

No one did, and the sun eventually set.

When Toris assumed everyone else was gone, he logged out of the system and began trying to hack into it.

Very quickly, he realized he was a little in over his head, because this system was unlike one he had ever seen, extremely advanced, and the firewall thrust him out time and time again. Still, Toris was quite stubborn by nature, and sat there for hours, long after he had been defeated, and kept on trying.

No go. Just couldn't get in, couldn't breach it, couldn't find a way around the impressive firewall.

Toris gave up, and went home.

Gilbert was his best chance at finding out these new trials, because it seemed as if Gilbert had everyone else that may have known about it on complete lockdown. Toris couldn't even get far enough into the system to find out the names of any of the researchers for the company at all, and no one he called for help could find anything either.

Gilbert was taking this very seriously, which was bad. But Gilbert was a dumb, impulsive, horny man, which was good.

Toris still considered the odds in his favor.

But damn! He didn't really wanna concede and call Gilbert just yet. Knew that once he was alone with Gilbert in a private setting it was likely game over, information or no, and Toris was being intentionally stubborn perhaps just to be an ass to Ivan.

Gilbert's large hands felt surprisingly pleasant—

Nah.

Being groped by Gilbert wasn't terrible, granted, but Toris resisted all the same, and instead of calling Gilbert and taking him up on that drink, Toris tried slinking up to Ludwig instead, because what the hell did he have to lose by trying? Even someone like Ludwig could slip sometimes.

It had been folly, in hindsight, given that Ludwig was Toris 2.0 except squared and amplified, but he tried anyway.

Ludwig was scribbling away in his office when Toris knocked and came inside. A glance up, a look of condescending disinterest, and Ludwig didn't say a word as Toris came inside and said, "I got you a coffee."

No answer.

Toris came forward and set the coffee on Ludwig's desk, dragging over a chair and straddling it as he eyed Ludwig pointedly. Ludwig ignored him very easily, not once looking up at him, and Toris sipped on his own coffee for a while before trying, "You ever get a day off?"

Without looking up, Ludwig curled his lip and snipped, "Have you met Gilbert? He requires twenty-four/seven care. Always."

Toris snorted, and conceded, "Fair. My mistake."

Toris rested his head on his arm, staring ever at testy, stony Ludwig, and knew right then that there was no way in hell he was getting anything at all from Ludwig, but he was already here so he may as well have given it a go.

"So. Your brother is being very secretive. Is he always that way? What? You don't want the new secretary knowing the project in the works? How can I do my job like that? What are you guys up to? The curiosity is killing me. I'd like to know what I jumped ship for."

By then, Toris had nearly finished his coffee, and Ludwig had yet to touch his.

A heavy exhale, and Ludwig finally looked up, piercing eyes pinning Toris down, and his voice was just as icy when he said, very sternly, "Let's get this clear, right now, you and I. My brother may be a blithering idiot, but I am not. As long as I'm here, by god, you're not going to use his raging hormones against him to get him to ruin his own company. I know exactly why you're here. Braginsky has sent you to collect information on our new trials because Gilbert can't keep his mouth shut when his ego is insulted. You're not getting a damn thing, and you can call your lowlife boss right now and tell him that. You may as well just go back. You're not getting a thing. I've already threatened Gilbert soundly, so don't think he doesn't know about you, either. You're wasting your time. You're not getting anything except _groped_. I hope that was worth it. And by the way, stop trying to hack into my system. I designed this myself. A little hobby of mine. You're not getting past it, I assure you. To this day I've never been breached. You don't have the know-how to get by me. Every keystroke you make is amateur at absolute best. It's insulting. As is _every_ move you make."

Toris was sneering by then, eyes lidded and gaze condescending, but Ludwig was very unbothered.

Hell. Snooty German bastards.

Toris lifted his chin and drawled, with false surprise, "Wow! You really got me. How'd you know?"

Ludwig didn't dignify him with a response.

He _was_ getting groped, though, Ludwig was right about that, but honest to god Toris actually wasn't really considering that much of a negative anymore, because he had nothing better going on in his life and Gilbert was handsome.

Pitiful.

"Pretty rich of you to call Ivan a lowlife," Toris grumbled, "when you're out here covering up all of your brother's dirty deeds."

Without looking up, Ludwig retorted, "I never said I wasn't one also. Like _you_."

...fair.

Blandly, Toris uttered, "Your coffee is getting cold."

His foot was tapping, restlessly. Total bust. He was getting nowhere and fast.

Ludwig grimaced, and replied, "I don't drink anything a stranger gives me. I grew up with Gilbert and pharmaceuticals."

Once more, Toris sighed and conceded, "Fair."

Hated having to give Ludwig all the points.

So he grabbed Ludwig's lukewarm coffee and put it back in one long chug, because he needed a hell of a lot more caffeine. Couldn't smoke and drink and pop pills here like he could with Ivan. These jerks were way too strict for that. Lame.

He was fumbling about in the dark. It wasn't as easy as it had seemed in the beginning.

When the coffee was finished, Toris stood up and made for the door, and then paused when something struck him. He turned back, brow scrunched in confusion, and asked, "Wait—you don't take drinks from strangers...because of your _brother_?"

What the actual fuck? Hoped he was just misunderstanding. Could certainly believe that Gilbert would absolutely drug someone to get in their pants, but his own brother? Yeesh.

Ludwig didn't seemed bothered, pen once more scratching away, and he merely replied, "I fear I'm adopted. I'm 'fair game', as he liked to say, or I used to be, anyway, until I put him in place."

Toris scoffed. Figured. Guy like that really couldn't keep his hands to himself. No wonder Ludwig was such a prick. Had to be, growing up with a man like Gilbert.

Toris shook his head, meant to leave again, and once more paused.

"Oh, yeah. One more thing."

Ludwig glanced up through his pale lashes, brow crinkled in annoyance.

Toris pulled out his pad and pen, and scribbled down Ivan's phone number, striding forward and setting it atop Ludwig's desk a bit pompously.

"That's Ivan's number. You can call him yourself, if you're looking for a little groping of your own. He has his eye on you. If you're so worried about your company, maybe you should follow in my lead and go over there and seduce _him_. He'll be very happy to, ah, let his hormones rage against him, and bonus points for him _not_ being your brother."

Toris was rewarded by Ludwig's pale face burning furiously red, and that was well worth it, just to get something over on that pretentious son of a bitch.

With that, Toris took his leave.

Ludwig was unbreakable, so Toris could only go back to Gilbert. He was annoyed, certainly, but not yet defeated. Gilbert was an idiot, and even if Ludwig had warned him and threatened him, a man was only a man, after all. Gilbert was the walking definition of a slobbering pile of hormones, and Toris was certain that sooner or later Gilbert would mess up.

Ivan's words rang in his ear : 'make him talk in bed.'

Damn. Seemed more and more like that would be the only possible way, because Gilbert wasn't quite as stupid as Toris had hoped.

Alas.

Well! Toris could say that he was annoyed and inconvenienced but certainly not heartbroken nor distraught. There were worse things in life than sleeping with a handsome man, Toris figured, and as he had always confirmed to even himself, he was not a good person.

Time for plan B.

Seducing that bastard.


End file.
